Page 65 of Fight

“The second reason, the one I’m most ashamed of, I grew up believing something was wrong with Jonathan. I thought being with him was my calling, my purpose. Believed the reason we were best friends was because God had chosenme tosavehim. All my life I’ve wanted to help people, and I thought that’s what I was doing. He was attractive, received attention from the other girls, though it was never reciprocated. I figured out early on that Jonathan wasn’t like the other boys, but I also noticed the way he looked at them. I loved Jonathan and knew he loved me. We figured we could be a life raft for each other.

“If we faked a relationship, got engaged, and fell in love without the church having to intervene, then nobody would be the wiser, and Jonathan wouldn’t have to go through any other forms of conversion therapy—and I would have a partner I knew was kind and loved me. We knew a platonic marriage was far safer than taking our chances.”

I run my hands over my scalp, willing myself to listen and trying to wrap my head around what she’s saying. It’s almost too much information to take in.

“I went to school to become an EMT, and someone at the local firehouse was able to get me a job. It was a big deal, almost everyone worked in our small town, we were self-sufficient, save for a few resources, like fire. While I was in school, suddenly my world got a lot bigger. I met people who had different beliefs than me—but they weren’t bad people like I’d always been told.These weregoodpeople withkindhearts. The more I was exposed to the outside, the more I realized I wasn’t helping anyone.” She blinks away a couple tears. “I was hurting Jonathan and hurting myself. It might have been the safer option for us, but it wasn’t right. I was part of the problem.” She wraps her arms around her middle. “I wanted out.”

I shake my head but struggle making eye contact. “This sounds fucking crazy.”

“Because it is crazy! It’s awful! I don’t want to be part of any community who would cause others so much pain. But leaving The Fold isn’t just moving, it’s exile. There were stories of people escaping and being dragged back. I tried to get Jonathan to come with me, but he wouldn’t.” Her chin trembles as she peers down at her hands. “So I left.”

Holy shit.This is the most bizarre situation—her story is almost too strange to believe. I’ve never heard of anything like this happening outside of the movies or true-crime documentaries.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

She doesn’t speak as if she’s making up a lie, it’s as if she’s finally unburdening herself. Like it’s the first time she’s been able to tell someone her story; she’s bearing her soul.

“You have to trust me. I can’t prove it. It’s not meant to look like anything more than a normal marriage. We needed the church to believe Jonathan wascured. Though, I’m sure they’re questioning both of us now that I’ve left. I’ve never seen another woman attempt to leave the community, only heard rumors of it, and none of them ended well.”

I cross back over to her side of the room. “How was he supposed to be cured? Did you sleep with Jonathan?”

“Yes.”

“Like, sex?”

“Yes.”

“He could…? How?”

She shrugs. “After so many years, it becomes a biological attraction. Humans have needs. With enough sexual encounters, our bodies reacted the way they had to in order to achieve sexual gratification. It was almost clinical. At first, it was something we did because we thought we were doing the right thing. Later, it just became a habit.”

She opens her mouth to say more but stops short.

“Once I started realizing how messed up the entire thing was, I refused to sleep with him anymore. It became a point of contention between us. He knew I was pulling away, and it scared him. It was about a year before I left when I started proposing we leave, but he was stuck in denial. I worry he’s still under the impression that he needs to be saved from some kind of sinful affliction… I think he believes them.”

“So, do you still have feelings for him? Are you separated? What’s the deal?”

Hearing about her marriage to another man brings back all the betrayal I experienced with Molly.

Her eyes brim with tears, a wistful smile on her lips. “We’re separated. My feelings for Jonathan will always run deep, but they aren’t romantic. He’s my best friend. We saved each other.” Her voice wavers, and she sucks in a breath, holding it while she composes herself. “And I will always feel guilt over our marriage. The Fold made him believe he was broken, and I went along with it. He was never broken,Iwas.

“I told him we could start our lives over. Together but separate. He didn’t understand why I had this pension for leaving the only life we’d ever known. I told him what we were doing wasn’t natural, but he always told me to pray more and to stop questioning everything, but to me, I was nothing more than a pawn for a hateful God.

“I was tired of chasing unmet needs, I wanted a partner who truly desired me. I was sick of going through the motions, experiencing shallow intimacy that only existed on a platonic level. Iwanted to have sex and feel trulysatisfied. I’d been craving it my whole life but always blamed it on my own shortcomings, something that was my fault—I didn’t try hard enough, didn’t pray loud enough.”

She shakes her head, swiping away the tears and pasting on a neutral smile, as if she can somehow minimize the years of misery she’s been living in and the way she left an entire life behind to start over. I’m dumbfounded.

“I failed Jonathan twice: the first time when I married him, and the second time when I abandoned him. But one of us had to make the first move, so I did.”

I’m unsure of how to respond, so I say the only thing I can think of. “I’m sorry.”

“Maybe I should have divorced him before getting involved with anyone, but it wasn’t going to happen. He knew the only way we’d be able to get a divorce was if we left, trying to do anything back home would have set off alarm bells. I never felt romantically obligated to him, and I wanted the taste of freedom… And then I met you.”

I don’t even know what I’m feeling right now. I sit on the edge of the bed hunched over, struggling to process so much information. I have so many questions. My gaze remains fixed on the floor as I rub my forehead.Fuck.I’m being bombarded with so many emotions. I’m devastated for her, the agony in her eyes is clear as day. She’s been carrying such immense weight on her shoulders, not only for her husb—Jonathan but adjusting to a new life altogether.

Another part of me is experiencing massive relief that maybe we’ve got a real shot. I still feel guilt over sleeping with a married woman, but I’m no longer disgusted with myself the way I was before. And the rest of me is stunned by the entire ordeal.

“I’m sorry I kept my past from you… I’m really sorry.”

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